


The Shinra Snake Charmers

by tyrannosaurus_rose



Category: Before Crisis: Final Fantasy VII, Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Cats, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, Friendship, Gen, Got your back, Guru Tseng, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Hospitalization, Hurt/Comfort, Language, Lost Reno, Minor Violence, Pets, Snakes, Surprises, Turk Therapy, Turk-centric, Violence, Workplace, on the job
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-30
Updated: 2015-07-30
Packaged: 2018-04-12 03:03:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4463051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tyrannosaurus_rose/pseuds/tyrannosaurus_rose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tseng and Reno team up for a job, but when everything goes sideways, they may need help from an unlikely ally.  Written for the 2015 FF7 Fanworks Exchange.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Shinra Snake Charmers

_“Eh? You comin’ along, bossman?”_

_“You don’t sound pleased.”_

_“Don’t get me wrong, I ain’t got my panties in a twist or nothin’.  Just got used to working solo lately. No big.”_

_“Hm.”_

Reno had made it very obvious that ‘working solo’ was his preference, but he adjusted to the sudden change quickly and extremely gracefully.  If Tseng hadn’t known better, he might have thought Reno secretly wanted a partner. Reno was welcoming, chatty, laid-back, and affable, just as he always was when shit wasn’t hitting the fan.

That was fine, but Tseng needed to know how Reno would function in the field when it wasn’t just his own neck on the line, and when he had someone else to share some weight.  Could he handle delegating, trusting another agent not to screw them both over?  Would he take the backseat, letting Tseng lead, even when he had clearly been given this mission and Tseng was only intended to support?  Or would he try to do it all himself? 

_“Ya know, it’s just struck me I don’t know much about you, bossman.”_

_“What is there to know?”_

_“Well…”_

The transport to the mission location had been long, and Reno had trolled for information like a pro.  Probably a good thing, all things considered – he was officially on the ShinRa payroll, after all, and Tseng would have been disappointed if Reno hadn’t gotten _something_ out of him.  They made a game of it (Tseng had resisted, but Reno managed to make games out of most things, and Reno was charming enough and Tseng bored enough that it didn’t seem worth it to ignore him completely – besides, what kind of test would that be?) and Reno successfully learned Tseng’s favorite animal, his favorite comfort food to prepare for himself, his favorite thing to order at restaurants and his favorite place to eat (Reno showed genuine surprise when he discovered it was a food cart in the slums, but Tseng insisted the food there was authentic, consistent, and worth the asking price – he would let Reno wonder if that intel was good or not), and, surprising Tseng, an old nursery rhyme Tseng had forgotten he remembered. 

“Yeah, that’s right, keep humming.  Stay with me, Tseng,” Reno said.  He sounded worried, and very far away. “Can you talk? Tseng?  Shit.” 

That nursery rhyme was old… it came from a part of him Tseng wasn’t supposed to share.  There was plenty of information he was happy to let Reno dig up, but only things that didn’t matter, like his favorite color or the number of days in a week he would rather eat slugs than babysit Rufus (all of the ones ending in y). Surface things. Fake things. 

The nursery rhyme was personal; everything Reno was dragging out of him was.  Reno couldn’t know about it – it was too dangerous to let anything personal slip, even to a fellow Turk.  Was he still humming it? He had to stop.

_“How’d a guy like you end up working for ShinRa, anyway?”_

_“It suited me. How about you?”_

_“Don’t gimmie that non-answer.  I’m serious, yo. You never talk about Wutai.”_

_“There’s nothing to talk about.  Turks don’t have pasts, Reno.  You know that.”_

There was an unspoken rule never to discuss one’s origins, and never to ask.  The fact that Reno was, and so directly, made Tseng uncomfortable in a way he hadn’t been in a long time.  It made him wonder how many other Turks Reno had asked such blatantly probing questions of, and how many had been startled into giving him real answers. Tseng may have already given too much away. 

_“Why do you prefer to work alone?”_

_“Tryin’ to change the subject?  Tch. Fine.  ‘Nothin’ ventured, nothin’ gained,’ that’s how it goes, right?  They say you turn into someone different, out there.  Everybody feels it, everybody knows it.  But not me.  I’m the same old Reno, through and through, always.  It freaks people out.”_

Tseng remembered the complaints.  Reno had worked with a few of Turk’s active operatives at one point or another since he had joined the company, and invariably they had requested never to work with him again.  He was a great solo agent, so it wasn’t a huge problem, but Tseng and Veld had begun to wonder.  They had checked Reno out extensively before allowing him into the program, but neither of them had seen anything that indicated any inherent unsuitability in the redhead. 

“I’m… not complaining.”  Speaking was more difficult than usual. Tseng wasn’t sure why.

“Well, ‘scuse me for not being exactly reassured, given the circumstances,” Reno drawled.  That was unfortunate.  Tseng had really meant what he said.  When they got home, and Veld asked if they had made a mistake, hiring Reno, Tseng would be happy to say no.  Reno carried his weight, utilized his resources, looked out for his team mates, maintained his focus, and found creative ways to salvage any situation.

The mission had gone really well.  Most of it had been the most entertaining (and tiring, and disgusting, and all-out annoying, but mostly entertaining) stakeout Tseng had ever had the displeasure of sitting through.  Tseng had worried Reno would be a ball of restless energy, but the redhead hunkered down and kept watch, running a constant commentary of what he saw interspersed seamlessly with his own comments, thoughts, and, inevitably, questions, all without moving an inch. 

Tseng had to admit, the way Reno focused on the task at hand was encouraging, even if it was true his focus didn’t look much different from his everyday nonchalance.  Reno easily took control of the situation, setting himself up with the binoculars and directing Tseng to start taking notes on the surrounding area and see if he could hack into any local video cameras for some added perspective. Procedurally, it was on-point, since Reno was in charge of this mission and Tseng was the superior hacker. So Reno could play well with others, after all.  Good to know. Sort of. 

_“He’s heading into the bathroom.  Weird they all use seated toilets here, I’m more a fan of the squatting kind – I hear they’re better for you – I hear you never get hemorrhoids if you use them – hemorrhoids sound really terrible, don’t they?  Which kind of toilet do you use, bossman?  I hope you don’t get hemorrhoids.  Oh, he’s stripping, yeah, show me that fat ass – yeuuuch, what the hell was that?  Gross. You should get a doctor to look at that, buddy.  Uh, he’s naked, Tseng, and it’s awful, don’t look, yo.  He’s getting into the shower… he’s in the shower, cool. Looks like he’ll be a while. So, what kind of toilet did you say you prefer?”_

_“I didn’t. There’s an alley running right behind the apartment building.  Mostly full of trash bins.  We can dig through those later if we need to.”_

_“Sure, sure. … Well? Toilet?”_

_“Eyes forward, Turk.”_

_“I can’t see him, I told you, he’s in the shower.  Oh wait.  Shit. Someone just came in, yo!”_

_“Into the bathroom?”_

_“No, they’re still in the other room.  Ah… never mind.”_

_“Never mind?”_

_“False alarm. It’s just the cat, yo. Aw, fuck!  No way!  C’mon!”_

That would teach Tseng to trust Reno’s animal identification skills, but Reno didn’t give Tseng any time for regrets. He transitioned so quickly from stone-still to swift motion Tseng didn’t even realize at first that something was wrong, much more wrong than a cat in an apartment – but Reno was already hopping the railing on the fire escape balcony, swinging down to land neatly on the one below, shaking out the last flight of stairs only to jump off them four feet above ground and take off running across the street. Tseng was hot on his tail, not sure what Reno had seen, but certain there was a reason for this hell bent sprint.  Reno would only break cover if there was an immediate threat to the target that required Turk intervention. 

Who knew, maybe the cat had a gun.   

_“If you could have anything here with you now that you left behind there back when ya left, what’d it be?  Any one thing. Don’t have to be physical, neither.”_

_“…”_

_“So there IS something!”_

_“Is this the amount of focus you usually show on your missions?”_

_“I’m a multi-tasker.  Tell me whatcha miss from home.”_

_“It’s nothing. A cat.  I’m sure it’s dead by now anyway.”_

_“A cat, huh…? Never took ya for an animal man, boss.”_

Missions didn’t usually go this way. You found your target, you watched him for a while to confirm, and then you shook all the information you could get out of him before either killing him or putting him in protective custody. The “a while” was a vague time frame that could be anything from a minute to months or even years. In those cases it did sometimes happen that an operative had to be planted closer to the target, working with or for the person to keep a closer eye on them and prevent someone else from killing them before the Turks got what they needed. 

But this wasn’t supposed to be that kind of case. It was a cut-and-dry black market dealer trafficking dangerous monsters and high level materia. The monsters went to cages in wealthy people’s mansions, Tseng hoped for display (the alternatives were rather more gruesome), but the materia was dangerous.  Not that most people outside of ShinRa would have the ability to cast with it, but the fact was materia was rare, and this supply came from an unknown source.  Veld had found this mule, and Tseng and Reno were just supposed to watch and wait and see where and when his packages came in, maybe try to gather intel on the delivery service – that was all. 

Reno was already across the street, smashing his charged electro-rod into the apartment’s buzzer system, frying it and leaving the door hanging unlocked on its hinges.  He pelted up the stairs, seeming completely unaware of Tseng following hot on his heels.  Tseng had no idea what Reno had seen or what was waiting for them in that apartment, but Reno had invited him and Tseng was the ranking agent, even if this was Reno’s show. He would support.

_“So you like cats better than dogs?”_

_“I like dogs fine.”_

_“That’s not the point.”_

_“What IS the point?”_

They burst into the apartment at almost the same moment and Tseng had a sudden flash of understanding.  In a shocked, detached way, he realized what must have happened and what Reno had responded to far too late.  Tseng had never seen a Zolom egg before. The caved-in shell looked like a collapsed balloon, and was almost too large for Tseng’s brain to make the connection between it and the chicken eggs he had collected from the coop as a small child.  But snake eggs were soft shelled, Tseng remembered; what he was looking at was the remainder of shell-membrane, a hole torn in the side where the hatchling had forced its way to freedom.

The infant Zolom was already nearly as long from nose to tail as a full-grown Behemoth, although thankfully without nearly as much heft.  Rather than the dense serpent Tseng knew the beast would grow into, the hatchling was sleek and whippy, and clearly all the faster for it.  Hatching had clearly come as a surprise to everyone present, but the Zolom recovered quickest: it was starving, and could not afford to wait. 

_“Who the hell are you people?!”_

_“We’re the ones saving your sorry-ass life tonight, so shut the fuck up and – GET DOWN!”_

Tseng let Reno run ahead of him into the apartment to handle the civilian target and focused his attention on the deadly snake bearing down on them.  Barely taking time to aim, he fired a bullet at the space between the beast’s eyes, but the noise of the shot caught the Zolom’s attention, and the bullet just grazed against its turned head.  The Zolom hissed in pain and lunged at Tseng, who jumped away, rolling forward into the room. He wanted to keep the Zolom focused on him and on staying in the confined space – if the snake made its way out into the city, containing it would become a nightmare.   

Dodging several quick attacks, Tseng narrowly missed getting his head caught in terrible fangs.  The meticulous cataloguing portion of Tseng’s brain noted that infant Zolom seemed to have a numbing agent in their saliva – or maybe venom – Tseng hadn’t quite avoided that bite, after all.  His arm was caught in the creature’s fangs, and blood dripped down his fingers. 

A shock coursed through him from the beast as Reno rammed his electro-rod into a soft spot where the tail and body merged. Tseng felt like fainting as the Zolom clamped down harder on his injured arm, jaw muscles contracting under the onslaught of electricity, but a second later the shock stopped and the Zolom released him.  Refusing to let exhausted muscles rest, Tseng turned his collapsing legs into a controlled roll, taking cover behind an overturned coffee table. 

_“So? What do you miss most about Wutai, yo?”_

_“Why so interested?”_

_“All Turks love a good secret, bossman.  You know that.”_

_“How many other Turk origin stories have you picked up, Reno?”_

_“Tch, didn’t I just answer one?  It’s your turn, yo.  C’mon, man. Tell me about Wutai.”_

_“I don’t… really remember Wutai.”_

_“...Not anything?”_

Tseng remembered the chickens.  He remembered the nursery rhyme.  He remembered the language, although he rarely spoke it, and had forced himself to learn not to think in it, because it was far too dangerous.  He remembered the monotony of his life, back then, and he remembered what he did. He remembered why he fled. It was the same reason ShinRa had taken him in, after all. 

Sometimes he wished he could forget, but it was as much a part of him as being second in command of Turk, now.  It was the reason he could be in Turk – the reason he had a family.  If forgetting meant giving that up, he would remember until the day he died.  But he had other things to think about now.

_“It wasn’t supposed to hatch until next week, I swear!”_

_“That’s real great, man, but supposed to don’t hold water when you got a fucking Zolom in your living room.  Now take some fucking cover, dumbass.”_

Reno had attracted the beast’s attention to give Tseng a break, and was doing his best to dodge the twin threats of lashing tail and darting fangs, so Tseng didn’t waste any time opening fire from his new position.  Again, the noise served to confuse the Zolom, but the bullets still weren’t doing as much damage as Tseng would have liked.  Did these things hatch with armored skin, or did it just have a ridiculously high pain tolerance?  In the confusion, Tseng couldn’t really tell which, and resolved to spend some time researching monsters if he survived this. 

A streak of orange and tawny ran past Tseng, dodging flailing limbs and flying furniture with graceful ease. It was a cat, petite and green-eyed and fearless, and it hissed a challenge at the giant snake in its home, lashing its tail in fury.  Launching itself at the enormous creature’s head, the cat aimed needle claws at the beast’s unprotected eyes.  Tseng tried to call out to Reno, telling him not to electrocute the Zolom with the cat still stuck to it – it was a great distraction, but surely the little animal didn’t deserve that in return for its bravery – but the Zolom’s thrashing tail slammed into his side, knocking him a good ten feet to crash into the wall. He heard Reno calling his name as he rose to his knees, gasping, vision blurry with unshed tears as he tried to get some breath back into his lungs. 

Standing hurt.  He wondered how much damage that last hit had dealt him, but he didn’t have time to catalogue his injuries – he had to shoot the damn thing somewhere that would really hurt it before it killed them all. 

_“I don’t have a tragic past, if that’s what you’re looking for.  I was a normal kid in a normal household.  I worked hard, studied, trained, helped out around the house, did what my mother told me.  The usual.”_

_“What about your da?”_

_“My mother was a maid in his household.  He saw to it that we were provided for, but otherwise I didn’t exist to him. But my mother loved me, and my father was cruel to his wife’s children.  I was happier without him.”_

_“Do you ever…?”_

_“What?”_

_“Wonder what he’d think?  If he knew what you was up to now?  D’you think he regrets losing you?”_

_Reno looked so lost and hopeful, Tseng was reminded of his past.  Abandoned as a child in the Midgar slums. Left to raise himself, with varying degrees of success.  Parentage unknown._

_“When I was twelve, my mother met a man who loved her, and took her into his house. I knew she would be taken care of, so I killed my father and came to work for ShinRa.  So he doesn’t wonder anything about me anymore. Now you know.”_

_“You –”_

_“We’re here. Get your things.”_

Tseng’s gun was lying on the floor across the room, near the doorway where he had been standing before the giant snake had thrown him across the room.  Time seemed to slow as he took in the scene before him.  He could see his gun clearly: as clearly as the hatchling Zolom that was now smashing its head against the ceiling in an attempt to remove the cat, the deadly, vicious Zolom that was between him and the hope and safety the gun offered.  But from his position, Reno could get to it, if only Tseng could get his attention – hopefully without attracting the Zolom’s notice. 

He and Reno made eye contact, and Tseng’s quick glance to his gun and then to the Zolom, still trying in vain to shake off what was turning out to be an astonishingly tenacious cat, and finally back to Reno, seemed to be enough to express what he wanted.  If only he could trust Reno’s aim!  There was a reason the redhead preferred his electro-rod. 

_“Woulja do it again?  If ya had the chance.”_

_“Why so curious?”_

Reno’s first shot did no more damage than any of Tseng’s efforts, although this time Tseng could see clearly that Reno made a direct hit.  The Zolom writhed, but remained focused on the poor cat, which had slipped off the top of the beast’s head under its onslaught and now clung desperately to its neck. The Zolom shook its head viciously, and Reno carefully aimed and fired again.  And again, it didn’t seem to do much damage, but this time it finally caught the serpent’s attention. 

The Zolom dove at Reno, maw gaping, fangs seeming to extend as the creature sprang.  Tseng moved faster than he ever had before, leaping into midair to catch the cat as it fell.  He heard the bang of his last shot, and the back of the snake’s head exploded, spraying hot, sticky blood and gobs of grey matter in every direction.  Reno had shot straight through the soft flesh inside the serpent’s mouth. 

_“Anything at all… and you’d pick a cat?  Really?”_

_“Maybe the cat was a red herring.”_

_“Or maybe it’s more significant that you want me to know.  Ooooh, this cat was important, wasn’t it?”_

_“Reno…”_

Tseng woke up in a comfortable but unfamiliar bed. Opening his eyes was a chore: they felt leaden, and his entire head seemed swollen to the point that even thinking was painful.  He forced himself to open his eyes anyway, and winced at the brightness of the room. Slowly, he processed what he had seen in that brief glimpse: close curtained walls, a plastic bed frame, a cart with a collection of machines that hummed and beeped with an increasing degree of annoyance. 

Tseng tried not to groan.  He hated hospitals. 

Then, very suddenly, a rush of memory swept over him like levy waters breaching their banks, and Tseng gasped and tried to claw his way out from under oppressively tangled sheets.   Hands gently pressed his shoulders back against the bed.  “Lie still,” someone said.  “Get a doctor.”

“Reno?” Tseng asked. 

“Reno’s fine, don’t worry.  Tseng.  Can you look at me?” 

There were a lot of tests to be run. It felt like every five minutes, a nurse came in to poke and prod at him and announce to the room that he was doing well, considering the circumstances.  There was a degree of incredulity surrounding his injuries, Tseng thought – but why wouldn’t there be?  It wasn’t every day you picked a fight with a baby Midgar Zolom in the middle of some guy’s apartment. 

_“Boss, can you hear me?  Boss! Tseng!  Stay with me, Tseng!”_

“What happened?”  Tseng asked groggily.  He had been in and out all day, and now the sunlight was fading. “Where’s Reno?”

“Reno’s fine.  He’s debriefing with Veld.  From what I hear, you two took on a newly hatched Zolom together. What on earth _possessed_ you?”  Freyra seemed genuinely concerned for his mental fortitude. 

“I didn’t know that’s what it was at the time. Although I should have made Reno tell me before we kicked down the door.”

“Humph.  Well, maybe that’ll teach you to blindly follow _Reno_ into a target’s apartment.”  Her disapproval was plain, and Tseng felt a pang of affection and protectiveness that none of it seemed to be directed at him. 

“It wasn’t Reno’s fault,” Tseng told her firmly. “What kind of idiot keeps a ready-to-hatch Zolom egg in his living room?  Reno did a great job in a ridiculous, terrible situation.” 

“If you say so.  He still nearly got you killed.”  The implied, ‘and that’ll keep him on my shit list for a good long while,’ went unsaid, but Tseng heard her loud and clear. He wondered what it would take to convince his crew that Reno hadn’t tried to kill him. 

“What happened to the target?”

“Reno handed him over to Veld, who assigned Judet and Maur to get him talking.  Seems things are going well on that front.” 

Tseng nodded solemnly.  Both Martial Arts operatives were extraordinarily good at getting uncooperative visitors to cooperate.  Their typical good-cop bad-cop roles tended to throw observers off, but Judet played the stern older sister better than anyone Tseng had ever seen, and Maur had a talent for finding people’s passions and sympathizing. They wouldn’t have any problems.

“Do you happen to know why I feel like there’s an elephant sitting on me?”

“You don’t remember?  After Reno shot it, the Zolom collapsed on top of you. It may have been a baby, but it still weighs a solid three hundred pounds.  Between that, being tail-slapped into the wall, and getting bit,” she paused to send an impressive glare in his direction, and Tseng tried a reconciliatory smile to little effect, “you’ve got a few broken ribs, severe bruising – they fixed the worst of the internal bleeding, but you’ll still be sore – and strict orders not to use that arm for the next two days at least. You’re also covered in mysterious scratches the doctors haven’t been able to link to any of your reported battle injuries.” 

Well, that was somewhat overwhelming. “I got all that and Reno’s totally fine?” 

Freyra’s expression darkened.   “That little brat got out without a hair out of place.”

“Good.”

“ _Good_? How is that _good_?” 

“Freyra, I appreciate your concern,” Tseng said gently. He did.  It was one thing to be told the Turks were devoted to him, even as only second-in-command, and another to have someone distraught by his hospital bed.  “But Reno is a Turk, too.  If you have concern and compassion to spare for me, you might consider offering some of it to him. I’m going to be fine. He’s so upset by what happened he isn’t even willing to get professional treatment for his injuries.”

“I told you, he’s _fine_ –”

“We fought a Midgar Zolom in a tiny apartment, Freyra. I can promise you, Reno may be many things, but he is not fine.” 

Freyra looked stricken, and then cast her eyes away, and Tseng let his words settle in for a moment.  But he was tired, and he didn’t want his people to think he responded to concern with a scolding. 

“You said the hatchling was around three hundred pounds?”  Freyra looked up, confused, but nodded.  “I wonder how they got the egg up the stairs?”  He looked at Freyra innocently as he posed the question, raising a delicate eyebrow.  It only lasted a minute before they both cracked smiles, and then small chuckles, and then launched into a good, hearty, much-needed laugh. 

_“You know you want to tell me.  Why keep resisting, yo?”_

_“Hm.”_

_“Nice try. Everyone tells Reno their secrets, bossman.  People can’t help it.  It’s cuz I’m such a good listener, and I got this face like I look like I can keep a secret. It’s hard to carry a secret by yourself, ya know.  Heavy. Everyone’s lookin’ for someone to share the load.”_

_“You_ are _surprisingly good at gathering intelligence.  Is that why? You just bother people until they give in and tell you what you want to know?”_

_“Are you tryin’a say you really don’t want to tell me?  Bossman, I’m_ shocked _. Really.”_

_“That was a serious question, Reno.  Do you think this upfront attitude should be adopted by more Turks in the field? I could use a few more agents with talents like yours.”_

_“Nah, it wouldn’t work for just anyone.  People always tell me everything eventually, one way or another, but not everyone has a pretty face like mine.  These days I just like to give folk the chance to be upfront without all that dancin’ around the subject.  You’d be surprised how many people’re just waitin’ for someone to show some interest.”_

“Tseng?  You awake?”  Reno’s whisper cut through the darkness. 

“Yes.”  Like he could sleep with people opening the door every fifteen minutes, ‘just in case.’ 

Reno crept up to Tseng’s bed, padding silently across the room and settling into the visitor’s chair.  For a long time he said nothing. 

“What took you so long?” Tseng finally asked. He had been asking for Reno all day, and everyone had given him vague-not answers on the redheads whereabouts and firm reassurances that the boy was in perfect health, having miraculously taken no injuries from their encounter, to the point that Tseng began to wonder if they were trying to cover up the fact that Reno had somehow died after killing the Zolom.  Only the knowledge that they wouldn’t all be acting so angry with him if he had died served to reassure him.    

“Well… everyone’s pretty fond of you, yo. And it’s basically my fault you’re here.  So.” Reno shifted uncomfortably, and refused to meet Tseng’s eyes. 

“Veld’s been stonewalling you.”

“Guess you could say I’m sorta in the doghouse with the big boss, yeah.”

“I’m glad you came.”

Reno’s head jerked up so fast, Tseng heard his neck crack.  He stared at Tseng with wide eyes, disbelief etched clearly over the hope and misery warring across his features.  Even in the dark, Tseng could see him shaking. 

“Reno?” 

“You’re all I got, you know,” Reno said, and gasped, as if he couldn’t believe he had made the admission, as if he could suck the air and the words back into his throat together if he was quick enough. The sentance hung between them, and Tseng suddenly wondered if anyone had ever asked Reno to share his secrets the way Reno had asked so many others.   “You and Turk and ShinRa, you’re all the family I got. I know I’m not supposed to think like that, but the way you took me in, you’ve been like –”

“Reno.” 

“Do you know how close you came to dying? Do you, Tseng? What the hell am I supposed to do if you die?  And when that monster fell on you – there was all that blood –” 

“Reno, stop crying,” Tseng said firmly.

“I ai-ain’t,” Reno began to protest, before he suddenly realized that, in fact, he was. 

“Here,” Tseng handed him a tissue, which Reno accepted silently, “take that and try to calm down.  Idiot.”  Reaching out to ruffle Reno’s hair hurt, but Tseng managed to hide his wince, and was inordinately pleased: even that much movement had seemed impossible when he first woke up early this morning.  “Of course we’re your family,” Tseng went on, letting his hand still but not pulling it back.  “Why do you think Veld and I have been so worried about you, running off on your own all the time?” 

Reno stared at him, eyes wide and wet. “What?” he asked, sounding shocked. 

“Turk is a team, Reno.  We all need to work together and have each other’s backs if we’re to succeed in the years to come.  We need to be able to trust each other.  Do you understand?  You’re not on your own anymore.” 

Their eyes locked for a long moment, and Tseng thought he saw something deep and painful run out of Reno.  Then Reno ducked his head, and Tseng let him break their contact, pulling his arm back neatly into bed. 

“You’re not either, you know,” Reno said suddenly. He seemed to be fishing around with something on the floor.  Tseng heard an odd squeak like – was that a meow? 

And suddenly Reno was depositing an armload of orange tabby on his bed.  “They’re searching the target’s apartment and seizing all his stuff, but – well, Veld told me I couldn’t be here, and I thought – so I snuck in and got her out. We took a quick trip to the vet, I thought she might be, uh, I dunno, damaged or something, after what happened with the Zolom, but it looks like she’s mostly ok, so.” His outburst ended as abruptly as it had begun, and Reno seemed to be waiting for Tseng’s reaction, but before he could say anything Reno quickly rushed on, “I know she’s not the one you left behind, I mean, I don’t really know anything about that cat, of course, maybe it was totally different, but I jus’ thought – I mean, maybe, it seemed like you two got along –”

“Reno,” Tseng interrupted.  “She’s perfect.  Thank you.”  The cat quickly found a comfortable spot right on top of one of Tseng’s injured ribs to curl up and go to sleep on, and Tseng felt a surge of affection and nostalgia washing over him.  Reno was still looking at him like he couldn’t tell if he was about to get hit or not. “You’ve certainly been busy today. Are you sure you’re ok, after… everything?”

“I’m fine.  A little banged up, but nothin’ like what you got.” 

“You must be exhausted.”  Reno looked away, and Tseng sighed. Stubborn.  “There’s a spare cot over there.  Get some rest, Reno.  You’ve earned it.” 


End file.
